Moving to France has taught me a lot. In all honesty, it has been harder than I thought it would be and I have resisted admitting that on this platform for a while because up until now, it’s been a place reserved for mostly light-hearted content with food as the focus; have no fear, the food isn’t going anywhere.
I have found a new kind of loneliness since moving here that I have never before been presented with. It’s a challenge. At times it’s pushed me to the edge of my resilience and there have been moments, in fact some prolonged periods, during which I was merely a phone call away from cancelling the whole exchange, packing my bags and going home. There is something innately tortuous about the isolation that this place perpetuates. It’s a cheap excuse to blame all my troubles on my accomodation and although, granted, it’s not the only factor, it plays the biggest part. This place is a perfect storm for a lonely existence; the kind of loneliness that drives one up the wall.
Our rooms are too small to congregate in, a problem in most university accommodation globally, I would imagine. The easy fix of a permanently and universally accessible common space would seemingly be most appropriate here. It would give us a space to socialise and relax as well as a different set of four walls to be surrounded by, therefore reducing the whole prison cell vibe. The kitchen is the common British uni solution to the social space, but as I have previously divulged, here that is not the case. The cooking facilities are minimal and the social opportunities are even more disappointing, though not for want of trying. Though we try our best to make some amicable and sociable times in the kitchen (multiple times a week, usually for pre-drinks) we are inevitably kicked out by the enraged security guards who appear like stormtroopers to extinguish any modicum of amusement. I’m not sure who hurt these guys but they are eternally angry. Something else to note is that none of us (European exchange students) have ever come across a group of French students attempting to socialise in any form in the kitchens. Maybe they’re a more isolated people? Or maybe they know some secrets that we do not…
Why not just go out to socialise, you may ask? Well, we do when we can afford to but this city is the second most expensive in France, after Paris, and so there are no £2 pints of lager to be found anywhere near it…
This post may seem like a miserable, ungrateful rant and to some extent, I suppose it is. Don’t get me wrong, I love Aix. I am so glad I came and did this experience, even if the soul purpose of it ended up being to toughen up my mental and emotional resilience. I’ve had to get a lot better at entertaining myself and enjoying my own company. I’m now more than happy to explore a gallery alone or sit and watch the world go by with an espresso and a book but I don’t think I will ever be able to shift that yearning for other people to bounce off of. We still have a great time here when we can and I genuinely believe that this place could be so much more enjoyable for outsiders like us if a few tweaks were made, but I’m not sure that enjoyment is the university or the accommodation providers number one priority. Everything is done on the cheap and the French students just accept that it kind of sucks but they can go home to their friends and families every weekend should they so desire and escape from the trapped feeling that we find it ever so slightly harder to pull ourselves out of.
More than anything, however, this experience has taught me something. It has taught me that what we have at home is a blessing. British students spend a lot of time complaining about the state and operation of our university and accommodations but we don’t know we’re born. The way our happiness and education are at the forefront of how our universities operate is admirable. The conditions we live in are a cut above the French standard. And our communal attitude, the desire to be with one another and exist in the company of friends is something I will forever be grateful for. We have outstanding sports facilities, as well as a drive to perform, compete and look after our bodies. Here most of the sports that takes place is all done for extra credits, at home we do it out of passion for the game.
Upon reflection, our experience in the UK just screams “I care” so much more than it does in France, and that says a lot, and though I intend to take on the rest of this year with a dogged determination to get the better of it, and not the other way round, I look forward to returning to the land of the caring.
J